“So, Trevor, do you think you can handle it?”
“Absolutely,” I said, pretending to be cool.
“Good.” My new boss clapped me on the shoulder and handed me a broom. “We’ll start you off easy. Someone spilled rice from the bulk bins. Take care of that, and then we’ll test you out bagging on register five.”
“Okay,” I said. “Sounds good.” I wondered if I should call him Mr. O’Rourke, but that felt weird. Scott O’Rourke was around forty, but he treated me like an equal, even though I was fourteen and starting my first real job.
I took the broom and headed toward the bulk bins that lined the wall at the far end of the store. As I walked through the produce department, rice crunched under the slick soles of my new dress shoes.
“Whoa!” I hollered as I lurched and slid. I grabbed the closest object, a wooden bin stacked high with apples. I caught my balance, but not before sending the carefully built mountain of apples cascading to the floor.
I grabbed as many as I could before they hit the ground, using my body, legs and green canvas apron to stop them from bruising. I had reached up to stop the flow of apples when two more pairs of hands joined mine, and the mini-avalanche stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked at my rescuers. “Oh, it’s you,” I said in a sour voice. I felt my face turning red.
“Hi to you, too,” Robyn said.
“Hey dude,” my cousin Nick said. “Great start to your career.”
I began putting the apples I’d managed to save back in the bin. “Yeah. I’ve only been on the job for ten minutes, and look what happens. I think that’s a record. Why are you guys here, anyway?”
“We thought you might need some moral support on your first day,” Robyn said, looking hurt.
“Besides, Alex wanted to come by,” Nick said, gesturing to a short guy who was now picking up apples. He had black hair buzzed almost to the scalp, light brown skin dotted with pimples, and brown eyes that crinkled in the corners as he gave me a wide smile.
“Hey, Trev,” he said, slapping my hand.
“Alex. It’s been awhile, man,” I said.
“Like, grade two. What’s happening, dude?” Alex said.
“Not much. You?” Alex and I had started kindergarten together. He had been the kid with more energy than the entire class put together. He used to drive the teacher nuts. Then he moved somewhere up north, and we lost touch.
“Just moved back,” Alex said. “My dad split, and my mom wanted to come home.” He said this as if it didn’t matter, but I saw a brief flash of pain in his eyes.
“Sorry to hear that, dude,” I said.
“Yeah, well, whatever. I’m back. I thought I’d look up my old friends.”
“Cool.”
“I don’t want to look up old friends. I want to laugh at your uniform,” Nick said. “Nice shoes, dude.” Nick looked over my shiny black dress shoes, black pants, white button-down shirt and green apron with Ashton’s Fresh Marketplace printed in orange on the front.
“Urinate off, Nick, before you get me in trouble,” I said, aware that staff were not supposed to swear at the customers even if one was related and 100 percent annoying.
Nick grinned. He seemed pleased that he had me in a position where I had to be polite and not put him in a choke hold. “No, I don’t think so. I need to pick up some stuff for my mom. You have any idea where the stuffed olives are?”
“Olives? You hate olives.”
“So, you know where they are?”
“Aisle four, I think. With the canned vegetables. You seriously want olives?”
“No, I was just testing you.”
I clenched my hands into fists. Nick was a great friend and a good guy, but I didn’t need this right now. He must have known that I was about to throttle him, job or no job, because he dropped his teasing grin.
“Sorry, dude. Just kidding. I have to get sandwich meat, milk and juice boxes though. And some grapes.” Nick consulted a scrap of paper.
“Yeah,” Alex chimed in. “We went by the vegetables, but there weren’t any grapes.”
I leaned the broom against the wall. “I can show you where that stuff is, but then you have to get out of here, okay?”
“No problem,” Nick said. They followed me to the front of the produce aisle, where the grapes were displayed. I handed a bag to Nick.
“Those ones look better,” Alex said, pointing to a bag higher up on the display.
I rolled my eyes. “They’re all the same, Alex.”
“Those ones are squished. If I were Nick, I wouldn’t pay for squished grapes,” said Alex.
I sighed and reached for the bag Alex wanted. As I lifted it, a small black spider fell out, skittered across my wrist and landed somewhere in the rest of the grapes. I yelped.
“Holy crap, that’s a black widow!”
Nick and Robyn looked at me in horror, but Alex was fighting to keep his expression neutral. He snorted a few times, and when I gave him my best penetrating stare, he broke into helpless laughter.
“You noob!” I said in disgust. “It was fake, wasn’t it?”
Alex nodded, unable to speak. Finally, he said, “You should have seen your face, man. I knew Nick was getting grapes, so I couldn’t resist.”
“Alex, grow up!” Robyn shook her head.
“You guys better go—” I broke off as an angry voice interrupted us.
“This is completely unfair, Scott, and you know it!” a woman nearly shouted from the next aisle.
“Shhhh!” I heard someone else say.
“Don’t you shush me!” The woman’s voice was laced with venom. “How can you justify taking away my shifts? I’ve worked here for five years. I’ve got two kids to support, you know.”
“Look, Mattie. Let’s go into my office and discuss it—”
“I don’t think so,” Mattie shot back. “We’ll discuss it right now!”
Alex, Robyn, Nick and I exchanged glances. At the end of the aisle, we peered around a display of soup cans to see my boss facing a thirty-something woman with flyaway brown hair. It stood out in wispy strands like a wild halo around her face, and her gaze was fixed in mean dislike on my boss. She reminded me of a Pomeranian dog I used to see on my newspaper route—yappy and aggressive, with a similar ruff of wild brown hair.
“Who’s that?” Robyn whispered to me.
I shrugged. “Employee, I guess,” I whispered back.
Scott’s back was to us. I saw him raise his hand in a placating gesture. “Mattie, believe me, it wasn’t an easy decision…”
“Oh, it was easy, all right,” retorted Mattie. “You just took a pen and crossed me off the list.”
Scott straightened. “You have repeatedly not shown up for your assigned shifts, and you’re often late, sometimes by more than thirty minutes. I have junior staff who show up on time and make a point of being here as scheduled.”
“Your junior staff don’t have to wait for a babysitter,” Mattie argued, her mouth twisting as if she had swallowed something bitter. “They just have mommy or daddy drive them to part-time jobs, so they can buy new snowboards or computer games.”
Scott sighed. “Mattie, I understand your difficulties, but how my staff spend their money isn’t my concern. My concern is running this store, and I need reliable workers. Bottom line.”
“You got an answer for everything, but no one can trust a word you say!” Mattie retorted. “You told me it wasn’t a problem, that you’d be flexible.”
“I can’t be flexible with a no-show employee. You have to be here on schedule.”
“It isn’t that easy, you donkey’s backside!” Mattie yelled. “I can’t leave my kids at home alone!”
“I’m sorry, Mattie,” Scott said, his anger obvious in spite of his tight control. “But I won’t stand for disrespect, and you’ve already proven I can’t trust you to do your job.”
“So what are you saying?” Mattie’s face suddenly paled.
“I’m saying—” Scott drew himself up to his full height. “That you’re fired.”